


tell me the story i already told you, tell me the story you already know

by M_Leigh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brainwashing, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, attack of the second person, extremely fucking disturbing things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Leigh/pseuds/M_Leigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were never in a war. (Your body is occupied territory. [Your body?]) Some kind of ache in his face that leads back to nowhere, inside of you. This is nothing. This is just words. Just sounds."</p><p>Bucky, from the fall onward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me the story i already told you, tell me the story you already know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigrrmilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigrrmilk/gifts), [connaissais](https://archiveofourown.org/users/connaissais/gifts).



> This is a very strange story. It has some very strange and disturbing things in it. I have chosen not to warn for anything specific but if you cannot handle intensely and specifically imagined graphic violence or just truly disturbing images, you may want to give it a pass.
> 
> If the beginning is confusing, it gets less fragmented as it goes on. But it remains pretty strange throughout.
> 
> Thanks to everybody who was listening to me blather and whine about this for a whole month. I do not remember the last time it took me so long to write something. But thanks particularly to Charlotte, who listened to me whine the most, and Audrey, who talked to me about the brain, and listened to me prattle about Francis Bacon and Lacan and all sorts of things. This is for you.

  
****  
  


Francis Bacon, Portrait Head, 1959

 

**1.**

Eyes open.

  
 **2.**

Snap. Snap. Snap snap snap.

Auditory function unimpaired. Snap snap snap snap snap. Slow drift back and forth, a needle, hitting one side and then the other, click, click, click, click.

Pull it up. Eyes open. Contract. Follow my finger. Slow drift back and forth. A needle. Pull it down: his gums are bleeding. Twenty-three and twenty-nine. Slap back up, wet contact. Teeth. Click. Click. Click.

Do you know where you are.

Eyes open. Eyes open. Snap snap snap snap snap snap snap snap –

  
 **3.**

Cold feet. Cold feeeeeeeeet –

What’s he doing? 

If something’s malfunctioning –

He’s looking at his feet.

Cold. Toes.

Get him off the tile, it’s too much sensation, it must be overloading him – pick him _up_ –

Gone. 

   
 **4.**

Do you know who you are.

Eyes open. Cold feet.

   
 **5.**

One thing: a woman on a sidewalk. Yellow light. Smiling down at – someone. (You? Is – you? Are you a you?) Opening her arms. Walking forward. Everything slowed down. Never quite getting there.

Who is that woman?

They look at each other.

What woman?

The woman on the street?

There’s no woman on a street. You don’t know any woman on a street. Don’t worry about it.

She was looking at you. You. You. You.

   
 **6.**

Fall back –

It is coming for you –

Eyes open eyes open eyes open –

Shut.

   
 **7.**  

Snap. Snap. Snap snap snap.

Auditory function unimpaired.

Follow my finger.

   
 **8.**

The woman is on the sidewalk, the brick building behind her, light coming through the trees, and you are walking toward her – all you want is to get to where she is – and she is looking at you – she is looking at you –

Where is the woman?

They look at each other.

What woman?

The woman on the street.

How does he –

Quiet. 

You don’t know any woman. You made something up. There is no woman on the street.

But she was looking at me.

You don’t know any woman on a street.

I don’t – I don’t know –

   
 **9.**  

It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s not what it’s supposed to be, it’s wrong, it’s wrong, you don’t want it there, _you don’t want it there, it’s not supposed to be there, get it off, get it off, get it off of you, what is it, you don’t want it, you don’t want it, get it the fuck off –_

Shut him _down_ –

   
 **10.**  

Snap. Snap snap snap.

Raise your right hand. Make a fist. Close your eyes. Touch your nose. Raise your left hand. Make a fist. Close your eyes. Touch your nose.

Cold. 

Good.

   
 **11.**  

Fall back. It is coming for you.

   
 **12.**  

The woman is on the sidewalk, walking toward you, arms outstretched, and her irises are blue flecked with black and her hair has just a couple of flecks of grey even though her face is young. She is looking straight at you and she is smiling. You are so close. You are so close. 

Who is that woman?

They look at each other.

He’s still –

What woman? 

Is she going to be okay? 

There’s no – 

Is she going to be okay? The woman on the street? Is she okay? She looked like she might – like she might – she – is she going to be all right? Is she okay? Can you tell me?

Shut him down.

  
 **13.**  

Walk over there.

Why? 

They look at each other.

   
 **14.**  

Walk over there. 

Now come back.

   
 **15.**  

There is a woman in the street, walking toward you, arms outstretched, eyes wide, smiling. She is looking straight at you. Nobody has ever looked straight at you before. You are so close to getting to her, to being able to reach up and touch her, and then – and then – all you want is to get there, all you want is to – to –

Snap. Snap snap snap. 

Auditory function unimpaired. 

Follow my finger. 

You wonder who she is. They won’t know her, anyway. No point in asking.

   
 **16.**  

Thump. Thump. Thump. Quivering. Eyes wide. 

Kill it.

I don’t – I don’t – 

It’s very important that you kill it.

Curling in on itself. Quivering. Ears twitching. Thump. Thump.

I don’t –

Something swaying back and forth. Click. Click. A needle. Something under that, too – another – sound –

Kill it.

I don’t – how to – breathe – want – to –

   
 **17.**  

Thump. Thump. Eyes wide.

Kill it.

I – I –

Kill it.

Sounds. 

I don’t – know – how –

  
 **18.**

Rabbit. 

Kill it.

Up, jerk, twist – limp. Done. Drift back and forth. Click. Click. Sounds underneath.

What do I do with it now?

They look at each other.

   
 **19.**  

Kill it.

   
 **20.**  

Kill it.

   
 **21.**

They are not the same. Were they ever the same? You don’t – you can’t remember. But they are not the same.

Shift. Slide. Squeak.

Think. Just think.

How –

Open. Shut. Fist. Slam. Done.

Metal fingers. Metal tongue. Hole in the wall. Hole in your head. Faaaaaaall baaaaaaaack –

  
 **22.**  

Metal fingers. Metal fist. Sweat. Muscle. Run. Run. There and back. There and back. Hand slap against the wall. One end. The other.

He’s imbalanced. It’s too heavy –

He’ll get there.

One end. The other. Slap. Slap. Dead weight. Sweat.

   
 **23.**

Pull the trigger.

This: easy.

Boom boom boom boom boooooooom –

   
 **24.**

Do you know who you are.

Who I am?

They wait.

Who I am?

   
 **25.**  

Snap. Snap. Auditory function unimpaired. Follow my finger. Make a fist. Shift, slide.

(A woman on a street –)

   
 **26.**  

This is the target.

Who?

Adelina Levkova.

This is the target. Adelina. Adelina. Adelina.

Blonde hair. Pretty. Head turned to the left.

Why?

They look at each other.

   
 **27.**

This is the target.

Who?

Adelina Levkova.

Blonde hair. Head turned to the left. Skinny.

Why?

   
 **28.**

This is the target.

What’s her name?

Adelina Levkova.

Blonde hair. Skinny. Fragile neck.

Where is she?

   
 **29.**

Kill her.

Blonde hair. Skinny. Crying. Snot coming out of her nose. Teeth bared. Broken.

Kill her.

Fuck you. Teeth bared.

Kill her.

Heart beating in your chest, slow thud going slowly faster. Snot sliding down her chin. _Fuck_ you.

You know what to do.

The needle, swinging back and forth. Click. Click click click.

Slow sick smile around broken teeth. You’re going to do it whether you want to or not.

Get him out, get him out –

   
 **30.**

Kill her.

Blonde hair. Skinny. Tearstains on her cheeks. Something stuffed into her mouth.

Kill her.

Make a fist. Shift, slide. Heart thudding. Speed it up. Fragile neck.

Bruises bloom blue.

   
 **31.**

This is the target.

This is where you have to go.

   
 **32.**

Boom boom. Bullets bloom red.

   
 **33.**

This is the target.

   
 **34.**

Body down. Done. Status: complete. Now: go.

Turn, turn, go, go – one more. A shade. Brown hair. Cheeks hollow. Dangerous. A threat. Raise the gun –

He’s raising his arm –

Eyes blue. Color of a bruise. Line in the forehead. Hand – silver –

Pull the trigger. Boom. Shatterglass. Shatter shatter fucking glass, boom boom boom, hands pressed against – against – cheeks nose mouth eyes – hot flesh cold metal – hide it, hide it, nothing there, nothing there, shatter fucking boom –

   
 **35.**

Fall back.

   
 **36.**

Do you know who you are?

Who I am?

Look here.

Hands. Two hands. Not the same.

Look here.

I don’t want to.

   
 **37.**

Look here.

Hands. Fists. Squeaking.

Look here.

Man looking slowly up, shaking, sweating, vein pulsing in his forehead. Scared. Strapped in. Not a threat.

Curl back. Bile on your tongue.

Look here.

Turn away.

He’s not going to –

Quiet. He needs to.

Look here. Look here now.

Man turning, shaking, sweating. Arm shining.

You need to learn your face.

Wrists strapped down. No hiding.

(Peekaboo.)

   
 **38.**  

Look here.

Man looking up, sickly. Arm shining. Sweat shining.

That is your face.

The man nods.

You throw up.

  
 **39.**  

Look here.

Man looking up. Bruises for eyes. Arm: a gun. 

That is your face. 

Teeth clench.

We’re going to give you a mask. 

Part one, slapped over, muzzled. Eyes staring out: covered up.

But you need to know your face. You can’t rely on this.

The man nods. Black void. Release.

   
 **40.**  

Breath inside the machine. Take it off. Slow twist of the nose, the mouth, the eyes: a jumble, a strain, inchoate, until – snapped back together. The man blinks and it is you. Yes. Back on. 

Just think. Fingers closed. Snap. Done.

  
 **41.**

These are the targets.

   
 **42.**

These are the targets.

   
 **43.**  

Cascade – click click click – bloody knuckles – and then gone again – but no – time –

Snap. Snap. Auditory function unimpaired. Follow my finger.

One thought, very clear, sink back into it, relief: you are not a you anymore.

   
 **44.**

Your work is going to shape the century.

You don’t need to talk to him. We’d recommend it, actually, if you didn’t talk to him.

Well. He should get used to the sound of my voice, if he’s going to be taking commands from me. Don’t you think?

It doesn’t matter. Smirk. Smirk smirk. He doesn’t need to know what you sound like to do what you tell him. 

Hands. Not the same. Stretch out the fingers. (These are what hands look like.) Soon: a target. Soon: purpose. Unknown known.

He’ll get used to it anyway.

   
 **45.**

He really can’t remember anything? 

Not a thing. 

Not even his face. They had to teach it to him. Back in the day. That’s what the files say, anyway. That’s why they always had him in that mask.

Should we be saying this in front of him? 

Doesn’t matter. He’s as docile as a fucking lamb in here. And we’ll just wipe him anyway. He’s not gonna fucking remember a thing. 

Hands. Not the same. Curl into fists. Squeak. 

I have a mission for you, the man says.

Exhale.

   
 **46.**  

Shatter fucking boom.

   
 **47.**

I have a mission for you.

Here are names. Here are faces. Nick Fury. Eye gone. Weakness. Natasha Romanoff. Trained. Mercenary. A threat. Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers. 

Genetically enhanced, physically impossible, sterling combat record. A threat. A threat. 

Air across your – cheeks lips nose eyes. Pull it across. Seal it up. Seal it away. Now: gone.

   
 **48.**  

A man, standing on a street, walking toward you, looking straight at you. Straight at you.

Ripped off, peeled off. Shut his eyes. Slam them shut. Crush all his bones together. Bleed red blood in the streets – 

Bucky? 

(No, no, no, no, no – you are not a you – so – he cannot be looking at you –)

   
 **49.**  

You are going to – to rip his eyes out of his head when you find him again, squeeze them in your hand until they are nothing but viscous jelly; you are going to stick your fingers into his empty eye sockets and pull him forward, choke the life out of him with one hand while you mangle his face with the other – 

You are going to – you are going to – 

Him looking down, blood blooming red on his chest, pulling at his shirt, looking at you again – 

Bucky? Bucky? Bucky? Bucky? 

Blood like rivers in the streets. Eyes melting like ice out of a skull. No. No no no no no no no –

   
 **50.**  

You saw him earlier in the week. 

I knew him. 

He knew you – _he_ knew _you_ – eyes on yours. (Yours. Yours. Your eyes. You.) 

You didn’t know him. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know him. 

But I knew him. 

Sigh. Mouth open. Eyes open eyes open eyes open no no no no no but 

you 

faaaaaall 

baaaaaaack –

   
 **51.**

Snap. Snap. Auditory function unimpaired. Follow my finger. Slow back and forth drag of the needle. Click click click click click click –

Something – something – somebody on a street – a man? A woman? Walking slowly toward you – the sun? Shining? Hands open, but – eyes – eyes on you – looking – looking – you don’t – you can’t –

I have a mission for you. 

Yes. This. A mission: a fist.

Yes.

   
 **52.**  

Kill him. Kill him kill him kill him. What do the others matter? Were there others? You don’t care. (Are you supposed to care?) You are going to kill him. You are going to bash his skull in until you can see the white inside wall on the opposite side. You are going to rip him apart until his body is nothing more than pieces of meat. You are going to kill him. 

(you you you you you you you) 

Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Don’t – 

You are going to kill him. Bullets bloom red, red on blue, and he is sliding away. Slam boom crack. Down. No moving now. No moving. (Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me –) 

You are (dissonant sounds) a name. No: you are: shatterglass. Click click click. You are: you are: you are: going to kill him. 

You are a weapon and his body is under you and you are going to kill him. You are a mission. You are a target. You are bullets in a gun. Shatter fucking boom boom boom and he is nothing but pulp under you and you are going to kill him. (Don’t make me do this.) Your hands do not look the same and he is looking straight at you with his eyes like diamonds and you are going to destroy his face and you are going to kill him. 

I’m with you – I’m with you – 

and you are there together.

   
 **53.**

Two hands. These are what hands look like. They do not look the same.

   
 **54.**  

And they all –

fell –

down. 

   
 **55.**  

He is still a body, and you are still – what you are, and you are both breathing, but at least like this, his eyes are shut.

   
 **56.**  

Underground. A million glittering eyes: ready. Waiting. Cheeks nose mouth: air, light, heat. Dark out now but: light, so: sight. (We had to teach him his own face.) Eyes looking at you. Hands around your ankles, needles in your bones, dragging you back, nails breaking off in the ground – 

Hand over mouth. Warm fingers. Stretch. Breath. Palm. This: unoccupied basement. Three exits. Door window stairs. Realtor sign outside. Stale air. Empty. Tomorrow: clothes. 

Mission: clothes.

Breath. Echo. Slow swing back and forth. Click. Click. Click. 

Nothing coming.

   
 **57.**  

Empty houses. Empty windows. Empty doors. Men leaving in the morning (young, fit, not strong, not paying attention, not threats), doors slamming behind them. Women leaving behind or before them (young, more or less fit, more or less strong, also not paying attention, also not threats): doors slamming shut. Locks clicking shut. But locks open for you. 

Mission: clothes. Shirts upon shirts upon shirts, endless pairs of pants, jackets and sweaters and sweatshirts and – 

too – 

many – 

This one and this one and this one. Pull everything off. Clumsy fingers. Strange vibrations: hairs standing up. 

And suddenly, this: you do not remember ever having all your clothes off but you know what it feels like to be naked.

Head between knees. Toes curled. Rush of blood. Eyes squeezed shut: explosions in the dark.

   
 **58.**  

Bodies. Repetitive thud of feet. One two one two one two. Everywhere. Nobody looking: eyes turned back inside their own skulls. But: what if. What if. 

Mission: mission: mission: target: James Buchanan Barnes. Dissonant sounds. Jaaaaames. No. No. Somebody else. 

Steve Rogers: the target. Captain America. His face: everywhere. Plastered on walls. Signs. Flat. Closer up: does not look the same. Va-cu-ous. National Air and Space Museum Smithsonian Institution 10:00 am – 5:30 pm 600 Independence Ave SW. 

(You are going to kill him, you are going to watch your fist slam his head to the side, rip his skin off of his face until his blood streams down his neck, over his ears –) 

Squeak. Fingers. Hand in pocket. Face away from the cameras. 10 2 6. Always watching. Always watching. Eyes everywhere. A million glittering diamonds. I know you. I know you.

   
 **59.**  

You know that face. 

Do you know that face? 

No. No. No no no no no no no – yes. But you don’t – you don’t – you. What is that – eyes. Look at its eyes. Spark burn fire. Something – something – no. 

Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up it’s been so long since you – 

since you – 

when? 

Stop looking don’t stop looking keep staring you can’t stop you have to keep staring it’s still there it’s there it’s there it’s a face it’s a real face you think you know it you think you could reach up and touch your face and there would be – there would be – 

Walking around. Feet. Bodies. One kick to the back of a knee, one punch to a kidney, one twist of a neck: elimination. No threats. So many of them. So many bodies. So many eyes. Moving in lines. Docile. Where would you plant the bombs. Block the exits. How would you – 

Worse. Movement. No sound (click click click click click) but – movement – one arm reaching up to scratch the shoulder, turning to look at – at – him, that face moving, stretching, smiling, shifting weight from one foot to the other, leaning back to laugh – and he is laughing, too, the stranger, the target (you are going to kill him, you are going to hold his whole body under you and you are going to erase him), looking at – and saying something, and then – it starts again. 

Hand at your shoulder. You didn’t – but you have – unforgiving. Don’t turn to the left: nobody there. Or: everybody. Eyes. Bodies. 

Somebody else. Somebody else. Those hands look the same. 

It starts again. It starts again. It starts again.

   
 **60.**  

Slam a fist into your chest. Do it. Do it over and over. Do it again. Leave a bruise. Leave a bruise in the shape of your fist. Do it. Do it. 

In and out. In and out. In and out.

   
 **61.**

Mission:

   
 **62.**  

Jaaaaaames. James. James. Jaaaames. 

Buck. Eee.

 

 **63.**  

Somebody else.

   
 **64.**

Mission:

   
 **65.**

Mirror in the bathroom. (Shatterglass.) That face. That face. Not yours. Somebody else’s. Mouth open. Tongue. Snap shut. No, no, no. One hand. Other hand. Moonshine. Nose. Cheeks. And – and – 

eyes – 

snap shut.

No no no no no no no no no no

   
 **66.**  

What if you went blind.  
  


 **67.**  

Rigor. No movement. Footsteps coming closer. Heart pounding. Thunka thunka thunk, snappa snappa snap, clicka clicka click – but – him. Surprise. (Surprise? But – then –)

Run away run away run away but – rigor. You can’t – you can’t – you – you – 

can’t stop him from looking at you – 

Bucky? 

Bucky? 

I’m with you ‘til the end of the line pal 

why can’t you run why can’t you leave why can’t you get away from him coming closer leaning down and reaching out to touch your shoulder with his hand like fire –

   
 **68.**  

Slam a fist into your chest.

   
 **69.**  

You cannot remember dreaming. But you know that was a dream.

   
 **70.**  

Hunger. So: mission: food. Money. Computer. (Do you know how to use a computer? You just know the word: computer. The image. But: do you know. A gun. A grenade. Every kind of weapon. This: yes. A computer? Do you know that?) 

Street. People. Eyes turned inside. Heels clicking, feet stomping, thump thump thump, nobody watching, nobody looking (or are they, are they, a thousand eyes, a thousand cameras): wallets in pockets, wallets in coats, wallets in purses. Easy, easy, no thought involved, in and out, money in your pocket. (How? How?)

Mission: food. Food: everywhere. Too much. Set a plate down in front of you: eat. Come on. Come on. Set it down: eat. Bing bam boom. Now: what? What? 

Sandwich. Bottle of water. Look down. Look away. No eyes no eyes no eyes. Done. Complete. Street: same. People. Heels feet eyes. On and on and on. 

So, this: consciousness.

   
 **71.**  

Those are your feet. 

Click. Click. Click. Numbers sliding one into another. Red light black. And still: those are your feet. On the carpet. 

Those are your toes. Ten. One two three four five – six seven eight nine ten. Crooked. Press down. White. Curl. 

They look the same. 

Numbers sliding one into another. Red light black. Those are your feet. 

Your feet are dirty. 

One exit: door. Window: too high. (Unless, unless.) Bed. Lamp. Nightstand. Red numbers. Television. Bathroom. Locks on the door, chair under the handle: what if. What if. (FALL BACK. FALL BACK. FALL BACK FALL BACK FALL –) 

Your feet are dirty. Those are your feet. 

Pull off: one. Two. Three. Don’t look. Don’t look. Feet. Your feet. Run the water. One – two – 

look up there she is looking down at you hair tied back laughing hurry up it’s going to get cold soon you know stick your tongue out flick with a towel – 

face. Floor. Scrabbling. Come on come on come on, get out, get out, come on. No. Click. Click click click (sound underneath, hum in your chest, one two three one two three) – somebody else. Somebody else. 

Head between your knees. Hands don’t look the same. Toes curl. (Goodnight.)

   
 **72.**  

Pull off your clothes and instead: layer upon layer of skin. Scream until your throat is bleeding. Keep going. Keep going. Nothing left but muscle. This will help. Molten. It’ll get hard later. And then you won’t be able to feel anything. Won’t that be wonderful? 

Scream until your throat is gone. They’ll put metal there, too.

   
 **73.**

Computer. (Card swipe purchase wallet trash. Hand stuck in your pocket. Eyes. Eyes eyes eyes.) Push open: and? And. Power button. Turn it on. (Turn him on. Bring him up. Come on, baby, come on.) Clumsy fingers.

USERNAME.

But.

Nothing but sounds. Up and down. Noise. (Buck – uck – uck – eee – eee – eee – eee –) No name. No name. 

Nobody else’s either. Except: the targets. Nick Fury Natasha Romanoff – Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers (you know me) (you know who I am) (you know my name).

No.

Robin Greenhouse. Enter. Done. Name out of nowhere. Name out of nothing. (Hand along your hand. Come on. Come on. Up here.)

What to look for: what to look for: (everything). Steve Rogers. Clumsy fingers: computer, not a gun. But: a thousand faces gazing back at you, all at once. Eyes shut. Go dark. No. Not here. Not here. 

Too much: this that here there born died came back frozen unfrozen heroically tragically miraculously mysteriously humbly greatest generation twenty-first century aliens New York Brooklyn TB 4F war helicarrier congressional hearing controversy comics and popular media private life Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes James Buchanan Barnes Barnes Barnes Barnes Barnes Barnes – 

Don’t click. Don’t click. 

Back. Instead: Steve Rogers, one hundred, two hundred times, over and over again, one thousand faces, no, no no no, too much, too much, eyes shut but: still there, staring, you’re my friend I’ve known you your whole life (you’ve known me my whole life? [we have always known each other]) – following following following feet slamming down on the pavement loud enough to break buildings –

Mission: run.

  
 **74.**  

You don’t want to do it but – but – what if what if what if – 

fingers cheek – clink. Click. Click. Slide up, around. Sliiiiide. Tap tap tap. Mouth: open. Open, mouth. Nothing. Sealed shut. 

Hand spread: open. Cheeks lips nose. Squeeze. And it all – crumples –

   
 **75.**  

Easy. Easy. Too easy. All the things you know: how? How? (Easier than: water flowing back up Steve Rogers’ cheeks, ice reconstituted, two eyes out of a million and the only ones that matter, looking at you, his lips opening to say something before he slips off the edge of the world –)

It should be hard to disappear. But: if nobody looks? If nobody knows? You: nobody, nowhere, nothing. The real feat: to appear. This – train train train slipping the border train hike – nothing. Easy. Too easy.

Alone. You. Are. Alone. Trees. Three exits: two windows one door. Tactically inadvisable. Too isolated. But: alone. Day and day and day: nobody. (You have never been alone before. [You have been alone forever.])

It should be hard to disappear. It is. And: to appear. You: neither. At the same time.

   
 **76.**

You: rigor, while you: above. Walking. Axe.

Hmm.

A foot. A thigh. Ribs. Your head, laid on its side, pounding, watching the proceedings. Your whole arm, tossed to the side. Nobody can use that for anything, you’re saying as you sort through body parts. The rest of this, though.

You might just wind up being useful to us after all, you say, hefting up an arm you don’t recognize, but it’s not your voice that’s coming out of your mouth: it’s somebody else’s, from a long, long time ago. (But what is time, anyway, to you?) 

We’ll just have to make sure you stay dead, you say, tossing the arm aside, and then you reach out and pick up your head, and look yourself in the eyes, and smile.

   
 **77.**

What if everybody in the world went blind.

  
 **78.**  

Wood: not silent. A thousand noises. Leaves rain small things. Wait. But – what for? (Wait. Wait.)

What is in the woods? Impossible to know. A thousand shadows. Thunk. Slide. Thunk. Slide. Fingers. Floor. Here you are. Here you are. (No mirrors in the woods. No faces in the trees.)

Tap tap tap. Thunk. Slide.

   
 **79.**

Two tongues in your mouth. Hurry up you’ll choke. What? Pull one out. Get it at the root. Which one? No going back. Two hands: don’t look the same. Tongues swell in your mouth. Tear it out. Get it at the root. Pull. Pull. More more more – it keeps – coming – no – when –

rip it out.

Why? Slap.

Rip it out.

How? 

Try harder.

Blood in your teeth. Two tongues in your mouth and you can’t speak with either of them. Try harder. Try harder. Try –

   
 **80.**

One two, one two, one two. Mud, ankles. Cold. One two, one two. No rain yet. Circles. (Where are you going?) Dirt caked everywhere. One two, one two, one two.

Stop.

Somebody in front of you: shadow. Walking. Hurry up hurry up hurry up. Mud, ankles. Come on. Come on come on come on – almost there – almost there –

you think the Nazis are gonna give a shit that you didn’t have your beauty sleep last night Barnes

so that’s a negative on us going after Japs, sir

shut the fuck up O’Halloran

I always wanted to go to Paris, wasn’t I always saying that, boys

you ain’t gonna see fuck all of Paris

Mud. Trees in every direction. Nobody. Nobody –

  
 **81.**    
  
What if the sun went out.

   
 **82.**

Woods. Squelch. Mud. Bark. Needles. Smell. Cloud. Yes. Iron sky. Iron everything. Please (auditory function) just don’t (follow my) – 

SNAP

slam hands mud gun safety finger trigger shatter in the glass – there if you move a hair, there if you pull back, there if you explode the world, there if: blood blooms red, there if (FALL BACK) – there if – there if – 

oh thank fucking christ Bucky, oh, fuck, thank god, thank god, thank god – 

no, no no no no no no, no, not here, not here (man in the woods, man in the shadow), how did he find you here, how did he find you, how: how: how: no – 

how did you find me. 

There’s a tracking device in your arm. We found the intel on it buried in some – file – I don’t know, Natasha did it, I’m crap with computers, but anyway, we – we figured it out. Since HYDRA’s gone. 

Shift. Squeak. Something – inside – coming, everybody coming, they will know, _they will know_ , thud, thud, thud thud thud, down, down now – could come from everywhere, no defenses –

It’s okay, Buck, it’s all right, we’ve figured it out. HYDRA’s gone, they’re not going to find you anyway. 

They will know. How do you know? But: they always know. 

Take it out.

Pause. 

Take it out or I’ll shoot you. 

It’s all right, Bucky, calm down, it’s going to be fine. We can have it dismantled. I – you don’t want me to be the one doing it, anyway, I’ll just fuck the whole thing up. I’m a relic of a bygone era, they keep telling me. But we can get rid of it, don’t worry. 

Lie. He’s a bad liar. 

Where are they. 

Just me today, buddy. Half-smile. Why won’t he just – look – away – Ran this one on my own. Nobody else is half this crazy. Sam and Natasha helped out but they’re still in D.C. – or, well, Sam is. Who knows where Natasha is these days. 

(Natasha Romanoff. Trained. Mercenary. A threat. Status: incomplete. Sam: ?) 

Lying? No. No? No. Stupid. Good: file that away. Steve Rogers: bad liar. Stupid. Or maybe: stupid about Bucky Barnes (not you: _somebody else_ ). 

I’m just so – I’m so fucking glad I found you. There are – there are a lot of people who can help you now, you know, Bucky – people who will want to help you – good people – 

I’m just – I’m just glad I found you, I was – no, don’t – I just want to help you, Bucky, I don’t know what’s going on but you showing up passed on the sidewalk at three in the morning with a black eye isn’t exactly a good sign – no I’m not trying to – I’m just _worried_ , Bucky – 

Fingers: fist. You’re faster than he is. Up, under. Slam down. Leave me al _one_.

Jesus, Bucky – 

Stop _calling me that_ – 

It’s your name – 

Fist: but: he’s fast too. (He’s trying not to hurt you. You want to break his face in. Advantage.) 

You need to let me help you. 

 _No_. 

Finally: jam his wrist back. Snap crack pop. (Shatter fucking boom.) Oh fuck – 

Sitting back, eyes watering, tiny wrist cradled to his chest, staring up at you with watering eyes: Bucky? I think it’s – sprained? I don’t know – what – can you – can you – 

Fist. Knuckles like stars behind your eyes. One two three four. Blood stains like pride across his cheek. 

Hand: throat. You don’t know who I am. 

Rasp: I think I’m starting to figure out. 

(No. No no no no no no –)

   
 **82.**  

They gonna follow you. 

No, Bu– no. I told you, it’s just me.

Phone.

He’s looking at you (rip his eyes out, wipe your hands off, lick the sockets clean) and: there. Hesitation.

Phone.

Shift around, and then: phone. Hand. Fist. Crunch.

Anything else?

No.

You sure? 

Just the phone. 

Toss the remnants in the corner. Not anymore. 

No, I guess not. 

Wrist: bruise. Swollen. How long will it take to get better. 

Sharp eyes: eyes like glass, not ice; ice melts. But it is dark in here. 

A few hours, maybe. Wasn’t that bad a break. Haven’t broken many bones, though. Don’t have much to go by. 

But – but? 

What? 

(Can he feel that? Try again. Try again.

He’s crying.

Interesting. Turn it up, see how far you can go. He hasn’t moved yet.)

S’not like they’ve been experimenting on me since I woke up. National hero and all that. Smile: teeth. And there’d probably be some human rights laws at stake, if they started breaking my bones left and right just to see what would happen.

Looking at you. At: your arm. 

Does it hurt, when – stuff happens to it? Can you feel it?

Don’t kill him. Don’t – don’t don’t don’t kill him. It would be so easy. Wrist: weakness. Emotion: weakness. Mission: incomplete. But: no. You will – not – kill him –

You only need one arm to take it out? 

Blink. I – yeah, if you unscrew the panel yourself. I think. 

Careful. Never – dismantled yourself before. But he does it. Tiny little node of light. Nausea. Flip it back shut. Crush it in your fingers. Done. Gone.

Sorry. That they – that they –

Going to sleep. Not gonna stop you from leaving, but – won’t be here if you leave and come back with the rest of ‘em.

He just looks, and fucking – smiles. Not going anywhere now I found you. It’s – it’s really good to see your face, Bucky.

I said not to call me that.

Yeah – sorry. Sorry. It is, though. It’s good to see you.

  
 **84.**  

And then, a dream (this is the dream – right? right? right?):

the saw moving from the inside, slowly, slowly, you can feel everything but you can’t stop it, you don’t know where it’s coming from but it is moving, skin and flesh and bone, up and around, closer and closer and closer to the end and you know it’s coming, you know, but you can’t – stop – it –

and then –

click.

Done.

Hands up – slow, shaking – to – feel – the ragged edge. All the way around. Curl your fingers around, inside. Noface. Noface. Noface. Gone.

No screaming: no more tongue. Kaput. Dasvidanya. Bye bye.

(Peeka –)

  
 **85.**  

Steve Rogers: body. Muscle. Bone. Palm curled around foot. Spine: a curve. 

Wrist: good as new. Half a smile. (Maybe you’ll break it again.)

It’s raining. Looks real bad out there.

Water on the window. Water in the river. (Water in the – in the –) 

Why’d you save my life, huh? You were – pretty far along on the way to killing me, pal.

Wind in the trees. One two three one two three. 

You did it for a reason. I know you did. 

But: so far as you can – remember? – nothing. Your hand: moving. Then: not. Him: sliding off the edge of the world. Au revoir. Again and again and again. 

You made a decision. 

Bucky? Bucky? What’s so funny about that – you _did_ –? 

This meat or that meat on your sandwich, sir, this cereal or that cereal (cereal?), apples or oranges, beans or soup, beans _and_ soup, sweater or jacket, username, password – yes. Okay. Maybe. (Don’t think about it. Don’t think about anything. Just – go –) But: sliding off the edge of the world. Pulling him out with you. No. 

Voice: hoarse. Rusty. Used to giving orders. Right? 

I – not always. I have to take orders, sometimes, too. 

Instinct: you always follow them? 

I – no. I guess – I guess I don’t, not always. Not lately, anyway. Trying to be charming. Won’t work. What is charm: superfluity. A vacuum. 

You make decisions.

(You don’t?) 

Bucky – hand out, wrist, white heat – 

fingers, digging in. Veins. 

I said. Don’t. Call me. That. 

Sorry. Sorry. It’s just – easy to forget.

Lie. 

   
 **86.**

Steve Rogers: body. Spine (one two three four five six seven –). Scapulae. Pelvis. Arms legs elbows knees wrists ankles. Phalanges. Soldered together. I present to you: a man. I present to you: the first wonder of the twentieth century. (Shut up, Dugan. There have been at least three others. Yeah, buddy, I ain’t putting you above Marlene. That’s cold, pal, that’s a German dame you’re talking about. Yeah, well, need I remind you all that I wouldn’t be – you know – if it weren’t for a German, so – Oh, Jesus, Steve, you gotta rain on our parade again, and here we’re all just trying to talk about dames – A real fine dame – That’s _one_ way to put it. Hey, what are you insinuating about my best girl, huh, Dugan?)

Eyes open. Darkness. Click. Click. Click. Slow sway of the needle back and forth. Rain. Somebody else’s breathing. Hand before your eyes. Shift. Slide. Squeak.

   
 **87.**

You would think: _you’re imagining things_ , vicious, brutal, but: “imagining things”?

   
 **88.**  

I’m not mad at you, you know.

(Shut up shut up shut up –)

Yes. 

Sighing. Rubbing the back of his neck – muscle, arm back side, stretch. Where to slice, to twist, but: wide open. One – two – three –

I want to be able to call you something. 

I – did they – is there something I should call you? Instead of – Bucky? That – they called you? Another name?

Another name. That they called you.

I – what did they call you? They have to have called you something. Unless you don’t want that – either –

The asset. 

I – what? 

The asset.

(We’re sending in the asset. Yes. Yes. He’s all prepped to go. Twenty one thirty. Get ready for some blood rain, boys.)

They called you – that. The – asset.

Slooooow. Hands: fists. Snap. Snap. Wait. But –

Hand: shoulder. Thumb: collarbone. Bucky? You look like you’re – going somewhere –

Soft spot: corner of the jaw. Sprawled out on the floor.

Fuck.

Bloody teeth.

   
 **88.**  

Lots of beans, huh.

(Shut _up_.)

Reminds me of the war, you know. ‘Cept we’re not going anywhere. Well – you know. The woods – the woods aren’t so different, up here. More hills, maybe.

You always talk so much.

Half a laugh. Only ever to you, pal.

You miss the war.

Stop. Turn. Stare. I – I – I mean – the war was – terrible – of course I don’t want to – go back –

You’re a bad liar.

Laughter, maybe. Jesus. Rubbing his hand along his face, sloppy, like a kid. (Blood blooms –) He could kill most people with those hands. Not you.

Just wanted to be useful, my whole life. I was – good at it.

A thought, from nowhere: _and people liked you_. Lips: locked. Hide the key. Burn him out of your brain. One day at a time. (One day. At a time. What is that?)

I could keep up with you, finally, too. First time ever.

But there was a thread and you have lost it. You were never in a war. (Your body is occupied territory. [Your body?]) Some kind of ache in his face that leads back to nowhere, inside of you. This is nothing. This is just words. Just sounds.

But I killed a lot of people, Bu– I killed a lot of people. Saw a lot of people die, too. Can’t seem to stop, though.

Hands around his throat: what if. The look in his face as he realized. Skin changing color. Struggling. And then: the body. Just the body. Nothing else.

And: eyes. Like water. Like glass. Like obsidian. Like the night. Goodbye, baby, goodbye.

   
 **90.**

 _You miss the war_ : “miss”?

   
 **91.**

Muscle: leg. Yes. All right. Toes: curl. Run up the muscle. Pull. Release.

Scar. Silver. Puckered. On one leg. Not the other. But your legs feel the same.

Do they?

Thumb: into the tissue. Slide. Shift. Release.

Again. Again. Pulling a string.

Movement. How’d you get that one? Fingers twitching, but: nope. Nope.

What happened, huh? 

Oh: right. Something – happened – did it? But: there it is. A scar.

Steve Rogers has no scars. And Steve Rogers was – was – before –

where was your leg? When – a knife? Something else? Where was it?

Can you remember? Can you remember – anything?

No.

Looks like it was ugly, whatever it was.

Ugly: okay. Ugly. So that is the word.

Pull down. Cover it up. And just like that: gone. Except, no. Still there, just hiding.

(You used to close your eyes and then: nowhere boy. Nothing man. Put something inside and close it up and nothing is inside anymore. Now: now? Things remain. What is that? Is that – remembering?

Your leg: scar. Your face: cut out, gone. Your hands: one, two. Steve Rogers: put inside. Close him up. But: his eyes stayed the same.)

  
 **92.**

Two knives, in both your hands: in and up. Choking. Blood sliding down out of her mouth: red teeth. A line of little gravestones. Dasvidanya.

  
 **93.**

Your head hurts.

   
 **94.**

What do you remember?

Shut the fuck up.

But you do remember some things.

Shut up or I’ll break your wrist again. Harder.

I can help you, you know. I can help you remember. It’s all gotta be – in there, I know it is, it’s not like that stuff just – vanishes, people don’t work like that –

Hand: throat.

How do you know.

I – I –

Hand: back. Ribs. Fire. Every individual finger. I know.

Clench. Stop. Touching. Me.

Wheeze: Buck – eee –

_Stop – it –_

Curve of the fingers. Palm. Careful. (Careful?) Thumb: moving. Back. Forth. One two. One two. Eyes. Water. Ice. Glass. Stars. Bucky – 

Fingers: let go. Bucky, Bucky, I know, I know –

Slam. Fist. Slam. Slam. Slam. Bruises bloom blue. (Boom boom, baby, boom boom.) You don’t know. You don’t know. Stop touching me. Stop – fucking – touching – me –

No movement. Just: eyes, behind blooming bruises. No sound. Backwards. Fist. Shift. Squeak. That is you. You: your arm. Your arm: a gun. A bullet. Shatter motherfucking boom. Look at that motherfucker he broke the fucking chair again. Well, you know what they say about bringing him out of cryo. Stay the fuck away, right? I thought they said he was like a fucking baby. Well yeah that’s straight off cause he’s still halfway frozen. Once his brain gets going again – not good. You mean there’s an actual brain in there? I thought they replaced that with a hunk of metal too. Yeah well. When they wake him up – is it like – does he remember everything and then they gotta – wipe it? Fuck you’re stupid. No man. He’s just wigging out. Like a machine going haywire. There’s nothing going on upstairs except how to kill people and get away. I mean he sure isn’t listening to us now right. How the fuck do you know if he’s listening? I mean he sure ain’t gonna do anything about it but he might be listening. Oh he’s listening all right. He just doesn’t understand a single fucking word we’re fucking saying. Do you you motherfucker. Do you.

Why don’t you fucking _fight_? Why don’t you fucking _fight_?

Don’t wanna fight you, Bucky.

You’re gonna. You’re gonna.

   
 **95.**

An elbow: slammed into your gut. Shot in the kneecap. Shot in the brain. Kaput.

  
 **96.**

But – why, why, I don’t understand – twist, snap, done.

Mama?

Like mother like daughter. (What is that? _Like mother like son_. But – no – no –)

Bruises bloom blue.

   
 **97.**

Your head hurts.

  
 **98.**  

Bad news, buster.

   
 **99.**

Rain. So many days of rain. Split splat splot. Traced on the windows: veins. Thumpa thumpa thump. Steve Rogers (the body) sitting, leaning against the wall, looking at you. Waiting. For: what? Something. For something.

Thumpa thumpa thump.

(What are you supposed to be doing? What is he waiting for you to do that you have not done? Mission: mission: mission: no –)

I can help you, you know. With – remembering. I mean – I was there.

Rain clattering on the roof. One two three one two three. Two chips of glittering darkness gazing out at you from the shadows – but – how?

What the fuck are you talking about? 

I can – I want to help you. That’s why I’m – that’s why I followed you all the way out here. Sure wasn’t the scenery. A smile. And from the age of ten there wasn’t much that happened to you that I couldn’t tell you about in excruciating detail, even if I wasn’t physically present, since you, uh, were in the habit of narrating your every waking moment –

Who is he? You want to ask: who are you? But your tongue: just muscle. Thick. Useless. Like mother like daughter. Twist snap done. Weight: almost nothing. Warmer in one hand than the other. No movement. (Death, death, death.)

No no no no no no –

Your mom always used to say you couldn’t get one of us without the other, like she didn’t know she was signing up to feed twins – but it wasn’t like she was ever complaining –

Like mother like daughter like mother like daughter put her down next to her arm around her curls in her hair head on wrong dead dead dead –

Shut the fuck up.

Split splat splot.

   
 **100.**

Oh god oh god oh god –  
  


 **101.**  

Later: I loved your mom, you know.

Your mom. Your mom? No. Never had a mother. Never had – a – that –

I was always worried people would – I dunno, not want to deal with me, cause I was so sick all the time –

How many times do I have to tell you to shut the fuck _up_?

Finally, finally: annoyance.

You’re going to have to deal with it eventually, you know.

(What if the world went blind. What if the world went deaf. What if the entire world went dark.)

We’re all that we have anymore.

Who are you?

Slippage: I – I’m Steve. I’m – we’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I know you, Bucky. I’ve known you your whole life. You have to let me help you. 

You weren’t there.

I wasn’t – there –

(Where is there? You’re not sure. But you know that Steve was not there with you. Two hands: wrenched apart.)

Bucky –

Stop it.

He stops.

   
 **102.**

I loved your mother, you know.

You don’t.

   
 **103.**

Who is that woman? The woman on the street?

Down into the tank. Hands on your shoulders. Slam one way, the other, but: no air no air no air –

You don’t. Know any woman. On a street.

Choke. Splutter. Yes. Okay. Nobody.

   
 **104.**  

Where is the woman? 

Watch as the water slams up into you. Choke. Splutter. Gathering darkness. Twitching fingers: limp. Reel him out. You don’t know anybody. This is it. You got it? Shut the fuck up and we won’t have to do this again.

   
 **105.**

Woman on the street. Fold her up. Hide her away where even you can’t find her. (But is she still there now? Or did she get up and walk away?)

   
 **106.**

But there is this:

Rose in the ground. Outrageous indulgence. Crawling into bed with a warm body. You aren’t crying, Bucky. I don’t cry, Steve. I’m not a girl. It’s all right if you want to, you know. Glad I have your permission, buddy.

And then: one delicate hand. Shoulder. Two eyes. Breathing in the darkness. Hips dipping in the mattress. Bucky.

I’m all right, Steve. Not like I didn’t know it was coming.

And then: what? Something. Something. But: face pressed against a fragile chest. How could any life happen there. Wet shirt. Hands fisted against your back. Momma. Momma. No, no, no.

   
 **107.**

You have never wanted anything less than this.

(You have never wanted anything at all. Except: to put your fist through Steve Rogers’ skull and to see it come out the other side.)

   
 **108.**

You hid her too well.

  
 **109.**  

Click, click, click.

   
 **110.**  

Pull off your shirt. Slowly, slowly. Trace the lines. Curve around your ribs. Jagged. Down the center of your chest. Craters. (Bullets bloom – boom boom boom –) All the skin – tugging in the wrong directions. This is not how a body is supposed to look.

You can’t feel it. You can’t feel any of it.

And your – arm –

Shift. Slide. Squeak. Curl the fingers. Let them loose. Pull it close. Flop down. That is not – that is not –

There was something else there once. There was something else there. Now: shadow. Dasvidanya. No feeling. No nothing. Just: clench. Fist. Air choking out of a collapsed throat. Steve Rogers’ face slamming to the side. Blood on those knuckles. Wash right off. Wash right off.

Fist.

   
 **111.**

Look down: no arm. Where is it? Where is it? Shouting but no response. Nobody here. Not even your own self walking around. Come on come on come on. Come on! Where is it. Clap your hands together. Clap clap clap. What’s the sound of one hand clapping. Silence. Tongue just a muscle. Numb.

And then: bone growing. Push. Out of your shoulder. Out of your flesh. Stalks of trees. Try to scream but: pulled tight over your face. (Do you have a face?) One bone, two bones. If only you could scream. Lights behind your eyes. Rigor. Bones pushing out of themselves. Oh god oh god oh god make it stop please momma make it stop I don’t want it to hurt anymore –

One bone two bones. Wrist. Flower out: hand. Every delicate piece. Finally: fingers. But: that’s it. No muscle. No blood. No skin. Just your skeleton, hanging there in the darkness.

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

   
 **112.**

Metal.

  
 **113.**  

You sleep like the dead.

I mean, you don’t ever make noise, or anything.

So? 

Shrug. I dunno. I just thought – I just thought. You’d get – nightmares, I guess.

No rain today. Just clouds. Grey light. Dull.

Don’t remember anything when I wake up. Don’t dream.

Right. Right. 

Steve Rogers goes for a run. You stare at the door. He comes back.

   
 **114.**  

Sleeping. Night. He looks different. Not expecting anything. You could kill him. It would be easy.

Curled up. Child. (Mother like daughter.) The sound of a cough rattling in the lungs. Sweat. Heat. Fear.

You don’t remember fear. 

(We’ll put you down there again if you don’t behave. Okay okay okay okay –)

Legs twitch. Fists clench. Small noises. Mumbling. Breathing: not the same. Eyes moving too fast. Curl up tighter. Shaking.

Steve Rogers is having a nightmare.

Oh.

   
 **115.**  

You think he dreams when he’s in there?

Who gives a shit?

   
 **116.**  

If you could find all the pieces of your – body – and put them back together –

you’d look like you do now, probably.

(Toes: curl.)

   
 **117.**  

Cut: edge of a can. Accident. Ow. Momma. Fuck. 

Shake off the blood. Palm. Open. Shut. Streeeetch. Red. Okay.

Shit, Bucky – how did you _do_ that –

Hand around your wrist. Hand turning your hand over. Too hot too hot too hot (you have always been freezing, your blood was ice in your body, when did it start pumping, since when did you bleed, when they cut you?) – no –

Get off me – 

Release. Standing too close. Other people’s breath: hot. Fetid. Auditory function – look – at – finger – something. Streetlight. Somebody shorter. Looking up at you. Smell – smell – not drunk.

Bucky. Hand on a shoulder. Fist in a face. Reflex. Body: slamming against a wall, feet skidding.

Skin: a million needles. Burning.

Fuck. Leaning over, touching his face: blood dripping onto the floor. He’ll get better. He always does.

(Does the inside of his body look different from yours? If somebody cut you both up – and you compared –)

   
 **118.**  

Skin shedding: won’t come off if you don’t rip it off yourself, but, underneath: all brand new. Shaking. Fingers: chest. Heat. They are there. Really. 

Curl around your ribs, your back. Feel out the bones.

“Bucky,” Steve says, as he touches your face, and you go up in flames.

   
 **119.**

Shoes. Or: boots. These are boots. One. Two. Jacket. Bag: food. One knife two knives one gun one hand two hands one mouth full of teeth. Go go go hurry hurry get out of here before – before – 

What’s – what are you –

Shit fuck god damn –

Eyelids – eyelashes unsticking – slow breathing in the cold. I – Bucky? Were you going to just – go? Without – without –

Frozen. Where –

Where – 

You were, weren’t you. Pushing himself up in bed: concave chest, arms about to break. You were going to just – sneak out –

No. Turn to the door. Not here. Not now.

Bucky, what’re you –

Shut up. I’m going. Don’t come after me. 

Grey. Damp. Slick leaves underfoot. Trees, trees, trees. Steve Rogers not stumbling behind you. Just walking, as fast as you are.

Jesus, Bucky. Come on, this is crazy – 

Snarl. Bare your teeth.

Sorry. Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s gross out, Buck, it’s gonna rain – just come back, all right, we can – talk about whatever it is, whatever’s got you upset –

Fuck off.

You gotta know I’m more stubborn than that by this point, pal. 

Snarl again. I told you not to follow me. I told you to – stay – put –

I can’t.

Turn to look at him: over your shoulder. Holds up his hands: a kind of surrender. No surrender at all, not really. He will not go. He will never go, until he is dead. (Until you kill him. Until you die.)

You are so tired.

Gonna have to follow me then.

Fine. I can do that.

Done it enough times.

   
 **120.**

You got a destination in mind? 

Shut up.

(Away, away, away –)

  
 **121.**  

Rivers splitting in every direction, hundreds, thousands. Pick one. Pick one. But – but – which one is right, which – you don’t –

Which card. Triangle square diamond circle. Sweating. You don’t – you –

Pointing. Diamond.

Shaking their heads. Dread. Something – bad –

Gonna take another one. Dragged backwards. And – SPARK IGNITE SHATTER EYES SLIDE OUT OF YOUR HEAD EARS BLEED SOUND – 

Which card. Triangle square diamond circle. Sweating. You – you –

Pointing. Square.

All right.

Rivers. Cards. What was – what were – how? Scrabbling around something. (What does it _mean_.) Nothing else there. Just: triangle square diamond circle. And now: rivers. Pick one. You’ve been asked before. But you don’t – know – the answer – 

(what if it’s wrong what if it’s wrong what if what if what if)

Pick one.

Where do you want to go?

Steve Rogers, watching. A few steps away.

Where do you – _want_ –

Well?

Look down at the rivers.

They all look the same. 

He grins. They aren’t. You just can’t tell.

But – then – how – how –?

It’s all right, usually. He reaches out one of his fragile bony hands and curls his fingers around your wrist. Ache. Crooked smile. Take me somewhere, then. Somewhere else: a street, a stoop, the summer, _take me somewhere, then, if you’re so hellbent on_ – on – something –

Come on.

“Come on,” he says, touching his fingers to the inside of your wrist, and you – and you –

   
 **122.**

Ache. Oh. Oh.

Roll over. Face in the bag. Shake. Please. Go away. Go. Away.

   
 **123.**

In the spring the trees bloomed white and sweet and he stood beneath them with the sun and shadow on his face and you looked at him and something inside of you was thudding because you were –

   
 **124.**  

Put him under.

Water in your lungs.

I don’t care, I’ll do what you want, I’ll be good – just – stop – 

One hand. Covering your mouth. Voice in your ear. Shut up.

   
 **125.**

Put him under.

  
 **126.**  

Bucky – Bucky – you’re having a nightmare – you’re – you’re not breathing right, I don’t –

Fist. Neck. Tighter. Tighter. Choking. Turning red. Trying to say – that name – no. Stop. Stop stop stop stop it – stop it –

Let go. Toss aside.

I just – don’t – understand – why you won’t let me fucking – help you.

 _You weren’t there_. But where was there? Nowhere. And where are you now? Nowhere. Nothing in a nowhere place. Nada. Nil. Nichego.

Fuck off. Arms curled around knees. Hands shaking. Both of them. 

Water in your lungs. Not there anymore. But it is. Never left. You don’t think.

Steve Rogers in a river and you – and you –

pulling him out.

Fuck off.

   
 **127.**

Kill it.

I don’t – want to –

Slap across the face. Teeth in your cheek. Blood.

   
 **128.**

Kill it.

   
 **129.**

You don’t want to, you don’t want to, you don’t want to, you never wanted to –

  
 **130.**  

– knife across the throat, blood falls, yes, good. Mission: complete; target: eliminated –

   
 **131.**

Fall back fall back fall back but –

your eyes still open. Everything is still there. Your skull is still pounding.

No no no no no no –

  
 **132.**  

Food: less and less. You barely eat. Steve Rogers eats less. So: fine. (For now.)

(But isn’t he hungry? Isn’t he – isn’t he – isn’t he – starving –)

   
 **133.**  

You are lying at the bottom of a river and he is lying just far enough away from you that you can’t touch him and you can’t move because you are so tired and he opens his eyes like diamonds and looks and you and smiles his tired smile and you are both drowning and you are both going to be at the bottom of the river forever until it turns to ice and you don’t – remember – anything – anymore –

  
 **134.**  

Humming. Steve Rogers is – humming –

Stop. Feet: stop. Lungs: stop. Heart: stop.

Bucky?

What – what –

Your mom used to play that. On the piano. Before – well. Before she had to sell it. Crazy she had a piano anyway, in the first place. Nobody could ever believe it.

Click. Click. Slow drift back and forth. A needle. Hitting one side – and then – the other –

Noise under everything. Hands. Hands moving. Something on top. Swaying back and forth. Click click click. Keeping time. It keeps time so you don’t lose track, Bucky. You never lose track anyway, Momma. But I might without it. And we wouldn’t want that.

Turn. Face against a tree. Crying. You are – you are – 

Lingering behind: hand on the shoulder. Get the _fuck_ off of me. Get the – get the – _fuck_ –

He does.

Noise under – music under – keys. The sound of keys. Piano. Watching. Fingers. Click. Click. It makes sure you don’t lose track of time, Bucky. Wind it up for me?

Okay, Momma. Okay.

   
 **137.**

Is she going to be all right? Is she going to be okay?

Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry, face against his chest, hips against the bed, hands too tight into his flesh, don’t do that, don’t do that, don’t – let him – know –

   
 **138.**

Click. Click. Don’t lose track. Don’t lose track of time.

   
 **139.**

How long? 

What?

How long has it been? 

Rain. Sliding down his face. Hair plastered against his skull.

Since – the war? Seventy years. But you weren’t – we weren’t – awake. For most of that.

You weren’t.

No. I wasn’t.

   
 **140.**  

Don’t – lose track –

   
 **141.**

Wake up screaming. Stick something in his mouth. LIGHTNING THROUGH THE BRAIN – BLOOD THROUGH THE MOUTH – BOOT TO THE GUT – WATER IN THE LUNGS –

This is the target.

This is your face. You need to recognize your face.

No it’s not no it’s not no it’s not I don’t have a – I don’t have a – 

LIGHTNING THROUGH THE BRAIN

   
 **142.**  

Hands up and down your cheeks, your eyes, too fast, too fast, what if you looked now, what if you looked in a mirror, what would you see, you don’t want to know, you don’t want to know (you do, you do, you do know, you’d see him, you’d see – you’d see – your own – but – it’s not –)

Bucky – Bucky – please don’t hit me, okay, please don’t – you’re really fucking scaring me, I think you’re going to hurt yourself with – that – I’m going to – just – let me, okay –

Hands around your wrists. Big hands. You don’t remember them. You don’t – you don’t – get off get off get off but you don’t – careful. Careful. Warm. On the one you can – feel – you’re so cold. You’re always so cold.

Looking down at your hand. The one that’s – that shouldn’t – no, no, you don’t – want it – where did your hand go, where did your arm go, you don’t – remember –

Bucky. What are you trying to do.

Get my face off.

I don’t – what?

Try to turn away – what was that, what did that mean, why did you say it, stop stop stop – but he won’t – fucking – let you – he just – never leaves, he never fucking leaves, bad penny, Jesus Christ, don’t say that Bucky it’s not nice, god Steve you’re such a – 

Hand on your face. Hand on your wrists or you’d – you’d – you’re going to go up in flames, you are, you’re going to – your skin is on fire – but it isn’t, it just – feels like that. Rocking back and forth. Careful fingers.

Bucky.

What do you mean, get your face off.

It’s not mine: but you don’t say it. You don’t have one. A hole: sawed out from the inside. Plonk. Kaput. Just: shake your head.

Fingers down your nose. Over your cheek. I remember your face. It’s not that different now, you know. You probably think it is but – it’s not.

Shake your head. Shake your head. No. No. 

If you got your face off I’d have to get rid of mine, too.

Terror. 

Yeah. See. It’s like that.

In. Out. In. Out. And, when you can: please let go of me.

He does. Slump. Lean back: a tree. Mud everywhere. You’re going nowhere. No plan. No escape route. (Always have a backdoor. Always have a plan.) No mission.

He’s looking at you with his eyes – looking at – at _your face_ – and – and –

   
 **143.**

At least they didn’t change your face, you big idiot.

It did change, a little. Frown. I guess I wasn’t – expecting it –

Not enough. Your mug’s same as always, pal.

Curl of a smile. Oh, yeah?

Sure.

(Thank god thank god thank god –)

   
 **144.**

Steve Rogers is asleep and you want to squeeze the breath out of him and you want to touch him because you are aching, you want to pick up his hand and press it against your face, and your chest, and your arm, every scar you can’t remember, just – everywhere – because – then you will exist, maybe – then you will – be somebody –

You’re going to run, instead.

  
 **145.**  

In the winter he stood under the streetlights all bundled up because he was always sick and you looked at him and something inside of you was thudding because you were – 

in love with him –  
  


**146.**

When you look down at your hands, they are just blood. So yes, they do look the same.

  
 **147.**  

Where are you running? Doesn’t matter. Go go go. Click click click. Don’t lose track of time. Just go. Fast as you can. You should – die, probably. Only way to stop him. You thought you were going to die once. (Didn’t you?) And – here you are –

Sound. Behind you. You should die. Otherwise – otherwise – this, forever. You’re too tired. You’re so fucking tired. You should – take your gun – blow your head off – 

Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky, what the fuck are you doing –

Fist. Cheek. Slam. Come on. Come on. What will it take? How many times? How many times until he doesn’t want to do this anymore? What do you have to do?

Choke. Splutter. 

Stop it, Bucky, god damn it –

Solar plexus, under the ribs. Breath: gone. Stop it. Stop following me. Just fucking leave me alone. Go back to your fucking – life –

I haven’t got one, you fucking – idiot –

You’re – lying –

Laughter. Choking. Yeah. Okay.

You want to kill me you might as well. You tried one time already. 

Fist. Face. Blood sliding out of the split cheek. But: his fist against yours. Haze. Pulling your arm around, behind you – kick back against his leg – elbow in the gut – on and on and on –

Leave – me – alone –

Stop fucking – beating me up –

But – it comes down to this – what is your body for if it is not for violence? What has it ever been for? You cannot remember. You cannot remember.

Holding you from behind. Not letting you go. No matter how hard you try to get out, to hurt him, to – do anything –

Bucky. Bucky. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Fuck – off –

I’m so sorry. Voice close to your ear. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

Fuck – _off_ – 

I wasn’t there. I don’t – know – what it was like –

Nose against your neck, your cheek.

I’m sorry that – everything happened to you. I’m sorry I can’t – I can’t – I can't just let you go, okay? I can’t. Even if you don’t ever – say anything to me again – I just – can’t –

Arms curled around you. Heat. So this is a body. You are shaking. Collapse backwards, both of you, onto the ground.

Please. Please.

Head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry I am the way I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Fingers curled around yours. “I’m sorry. But. I can’t. I can’t.”

   
 **148.**

The corridor is long and you will never get out of it, you will never get out, but it is not as dark as it was once. So you will keep walking, you guess.

  
 **149.**  

“Do you remember the tree outside our apartment? The one we had the longest. The last one. It used to get flowers in the spring.”

No. 

“You used to sit in the window in front of that tree and – and –”

Squeeze his fingers. You think – you think – you know –

   
 **150.**

Do you want to play with me? Put your hands – there –

Fingers. Keys.

Now, don’t lose track of time. 

Okay, Momma.

   
 **151.**  

Eyes open. Eyes shut.

**Author's Note:**

> Some things I thought about while writing this story: first and foremost, pretty much all of Francis Bacon's paintings, which you can find [here](http://www.francis-bacon.com/), and a lot of psychoanalytic theory (mostly Lacan but a little bit of Klein and Winnicott); and then, as I was going, _Under the Skin_ , [this piece of fanfiction](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1459930), and some poems by Bianca Stone, whom I recommend Googling.
> 
> Thank you all for reading to the end. You are troopers. Now you can come find me on [tumblr](http://morgan-leigh.tumblr.com) to ask me what the fuck that was all about.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Audio play: tell me the story i already told you, tell me the story you already know](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607237) by [fallbekind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallbekind/pseuds/fallbekind)




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